


The Day of Reckoning

by Flying_Flitwicks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Being an Idiot, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hogwarts Professors, Horcrux Hunting, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flying_Flitwicks/pseuds/Flying_Flitwicks
Summary: "He left me, Hermione. My brother's dead. He's dead. Dead. Dead. Dead! He promised to never leave me, Hermione! How could he?" He cried harder, gasping for breath along the way. "I wish I were the one who died, Hermione! Charlie would know what to do. I don't know what to do anymore! He's dead, Hermione. Charlie is dead! They've all left me!"The Boy-Who-Lived is dead. You-Know-Who is alive. Harry Potter wants justice, but how can he achieve it when the Wizarding World lost its hope? Two-shot, BWL twin.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	1. You-Know-Who is alive

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the BWL twins/brother. I hope you'll like it! Reviews and kudos are appreciated x *Crossposted from ff.n.

Harry Potter gritted his teeth in anticipation as he tried to discern his brother's figure in the maze of garden hedges barely recognisable as the Quidditch Pitch. The day of the dreaded third task had finally come; the third task of a tournament his brother was barely surviving.

The selection of their saviour for the dangerous Triwizard Tournament had rocked the wizarding community to its core, yet no one seemed to question his brother's abilities. After all, he defeated Voldemort as a babe, how could he be scared of a mere tournament?

It had taken all of Harry's willpower not to rail against the Headmaster, the Ministry, and the whole student body, but a single, tearful conversation with Charlie made him pause.

" _Harry, we have to keep Dumbledore on our side," Charlie whispered fervently, grabbing him by the shoulders. "This must be one of Voldemort's ploys. Dumbledore had nothing to do with it."_

_Harry shrugged Charlie's hands off his shoulders, his anger still roiling in his stomach. "He should've been more careful! How dare he insinuate you planned this!"_

" _Well, it's not all his fault." Charlie flashed Harry his signature, smug smirk before leaning closer—as if sharing a secret—and joked, "I do like getting attention, eh?"_

" _You prat, how can you joke at a time like this? I'm scared for you, you mulish oaf," Harry confessed, leaning against a desk in the familiar abandoned classroom._

_Charlie was silent for a while after that comment, his face turned away from his brother's earnest fear. That stoked Harry's worry—Charlie was almost never silent. Harry sighed and ducked his head, trying to manoeuvre around Charlie's shoulder and meet his brother's eyes. Charlie was stubborn, he was a fighter. Harry was prepared for his brother's determination, his reckless bravery, his lack of self-preservation. He was not, however, prepared for the tears that silently slipped down Charlie's cheeks._

" _Charles..." Harry whispered, but he trailed off. What was he supposed to say? It was him who did the crying, and Charlie the consoling._

 _Charlie's sobs had pulled Harry out of his thoughts, and he pulled his brother into a bone-crushing hug. "We're going to help you, yeah? Hermione and Daphne can research spells, I bet Neville has some ideas for plants you can use_ , _Draco may be able to get some more information out of his father, Fred and George will jump at the chance to do some slightly illegal snooping, and Ron is great for...um...moral support?"_

 _Harry winced as Charlie lightly thumped his head with a knuckle, but he didn't even mind the slightly demeaning form of endearment. Instead of complaining like he typically would, Harry pulled out of the embrace and grabbed Charlie by the shoulders. "I'll ask everyone for help, okay?_ Even _Ginevra."_

_What he hadn't added to that last name was, "Even though all she's good at when you're involved is stuttering and making a complete fool of herself."_

_Charlie snorted through his tears. "Come on, when will you let that go? Poor girl."_

" _When she stops stalking you," Harry informed his brother in a matter-of-fact tone. "She stalks me too, you know. One of these days I may take Professor Snape up on his offer to shave my hair. Maybe if I look a little less like you, she'll stop following me around by mistake."_

_Charlie placed a hand on his chest, smiling as he'd dramatically proclaimed, "My dearest brother, why wouldn't you want to look like me? I am, after all, the more dashing of the pair—or so the women say."_

_Harry just rolled his eyes. "I don't know how Daphne stomachs your bloated ego."_

" _Harry." Charlie sought his eyes. "You're okay with us dating, right? I mean_ _–_ _"_

" _Yes," Harry interrupted quickly. Despite the fact Daphne and Charlie was going steady for a few weeks, his crush on her was still a sore subject for Harry, and now wasn't the time to get into it. He needed to be there for his brother. "Of course. It's merely a silly crush."_

" _That's how mine started too_ _–_ _"_

"Salazar, _we're_ not _going to talk about girls right now. Not when there are more dangerous, life-threatening, immediate topics to address: like the tournament that you were somehow selected for!"_

_Charlie pouted melodramatically. "You wound me, brother." Suddenly turning serious, he gazed out of the window for a few minutes. "I…I'm frightened, Harry—terribly frightened. And tired—dreadfully tired. It seems some new crisis occurs every bloody year, and I'm exhausted. Sometimes, I just wish it would stop, you know?"_

_Harry's heart broke for his brother. He hated that every year, his brother's wings were clipped shorter and shorter. But that was why Charlie was the "Chosen One": through everything he managed to keep his head high and bring joy to those around him. He was the light, and he damn well lived up to it. "It'll end, Charlie," Harry finally whispered, fervently wishing his words to be true. "I don't know when, but it_ will _end."_

" _I just hope I live long enough to see it," Charlie whispered back, his words barely loud enough for Harry to hear._

_Harry looked in disbelief at his brother. "You git!" Harry hissed. "Of course, you'll see it. You, of all people, deserve to see it. You deserve to live your dreams."_

" _Just live, Harry," Charlie told him. "That's my only dream. For you to live."_

_Harry grinned at Charlie amidst the seriousness of the conversation. "And they wonder why we weren't sorted into the same house. You've got a lousy sense of ambition."_

_Charlie scoffed at the thought. "Me? A strong, dashing Gryffindor in dull, green robes? Absolutely preposterous."_

" _I'm terribly proud of you for using a big word, Chaz. Perhaps Hermione's finally rubbing off on you," Harry teased._

" _Oh, sod off," Charlie replied, glaring when Harry barked a laugh. "Who would've known that she'd get along with Daphne?"_

" _Books, knowledge_ _—_ _it was pretty obvious. You really don't use your head enough."_

" _Come on, I've had double potions today. My ego has been bruised enough by Snape."_

" _Charlie?" Harry asked, suddenly sobering through the laughter. "Promise me you'll live?"_

" _If you promise me that I'll be godfather to your first child, then yes."_

"Harry," Hermione breathed out beside him, pulling him out of his reminiscence. "What do you think is happening?" She paused a bit, straining her neck and rising up on her toes in an effort to better see what was happening in the maze. "You'd think that—with all the talented wizards and witches here for the tournament—someone would invent a way to show us what's happening."

"I think we've established that wizards don't use logic," Harry pointed out.

"You two talk as if you aren't wizards," the blond boy next to Hermione muttered.

"We're both Muggle-raised, Malfoy," Hermione retorted. "It gives us a level of perspective far beyond what you can ever hope to achieve."

"I have perspective!" he protested.

"Trust me, he doesn't have perspective. Not with all the 'You need to live up to your pure-blood potential' lectures he's been getting from his father lately," Daphne answered distractedly, still scanning the pitch. Her shoulders were tense, and when she ignored Draco's indignant protests, Harry knew she had to be worried for Charlie. Daphne rarely passed up an opportunity to give Draco a good ribbing. "I think I'm going to die if I'm forced to imagine what's happening any longer. I swear I keep seeing giant spiders scuttling around in there."

Ron let out a shudder beside Neville as he let loose his favourite curse. " _Bloody hell_. Spiders are the worst!"

"I can name dozens of creatures more dangerous than spiders," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Harry was about to nudge Hermione when a portion of the maze suddenly disappeared. The audience went silent as they peered at the missing area. A swish, indicating a Portkey arrival, rang through the stands, and a body appeared in the middle of the pitch. Harry couldn't tell how, but he somehow knew deep in his gut that the body belonged to his brother.

"Charlie," he breathed, and it felt as if someone had socked him in the gut. He couldn't breathe. Charlie had to be okay. He just had to.

But his brother's body wasn't moving.

For a moment no one moved. No one even breathed. Everyone just stared at Charlie's frozen frame, too shocked to do anything other than gawk.

The shock wore off rather quickly.

The next moment it seemed as if the crowd erupted, the loudest scream of all coming from the blonde Slytherin beside him. Harry wanted to comfort his friends. He wanted to close his eyes, he wanted to cover his ears, he wanted everything to stop so he could just _think_ for a second...but it seemed as though everyone else was too caught up in their own grief to pay attention to the still boy's twin.

"Harry!" Hermione called out beside him. She was tugging at his arm, her features schooled into a mask of stoicism. "Let's follow Dumbledore." She pointed to Dumbledore's imposing figure approaching Charlie's prone silhouette.

Dragging his feet, Harry tried to focus on the back of Hermione's head. He couldn't let himself believe his brother was dead. He was just hurt. But he _would_ be okay. He had to be okay. He was Charlie, the Boy Who Lived. In the time it took them to weave through the masses, Harry had almost convinced himself there was nothing to worry about.

Almost.

And that 'almost' was crushed as soon as he saw Dumbledore's miserable expression.

Between one step and the next, his legs somehow turned to jelly as if he was hit with a Jelly-leg jinx, instantly becoming flimsy, swollen, and unwieldy. On the next step his knee wavered, then collapsed, and he fell to his knees in the grass with a thump.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter."

He barely processed Hermione's violent intake of breath beside him. He barely processed the clamour of the crowd behind him, barely held back by the combined strength of the professors of all three schools. All he could see was his brother's body, lying crumpled on the ground, trophy still in hand as he crawled forward.

"No, no, no," he whispered as he took his brother's still warm hand between his own. "No, no, no, no, no."

"No" became his mantra as he touched his Charlie's cheeks, hair, chest. Harry vaguely registered the dark, mottled line of skin across Charlie's throat, the bloody palms and elbows, the lump on the back of his head that was still sticky with fresh blood. Charlie was the better brother. He was stronger, braver, and better in every conceivable way. He couldn't be gone. He was just passed out. If Harry just shook him hard enough…

Strong hands pulled him off of his brother's body, stopping his violent attack. A high-pitched keening buzzed around his skull, and he wished whoever was making that noise would just shut up. His brother had just died, they had no right to be grieving.

It only took a few more heartbeats for him to realize the wail was coming from his own mouth.

And it only took a few more for him to elbow his attacker in the stomach and dart away, levelling his wand at them in a fluid motion.

"You disgusting people! Get away from him!" Daphne screamed from where she stood next to him, big, fat, ugly tears streaming down her face as she waved her wand at the assembled crowd.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Greengrass," Professor Snape admonished, his wand at his side as if he didn't honestly believe Harry and his friends were a threat. "Lower your wands." That only made Harry more determined.

"This is your fault!" Harry screamed at Dumbledore, his voice bordering on hysteria. "If you hadn't let him in this bloody tournament, Charlie wouldn't be dead! He trusted you!"

Dumbledore's eyes pinched at the sides, but he didn't deserve to grieve Charlie. It was his fault Charlie was dead, his fault Harry's beloved brother would never see the day Voldemort was defeated.

"I know you're in shock–" Dumbledore tried to placate him, but nothing would ever fill the hole in his heart. Nothing would ever _fix_ the fact that his brother was dead.

Nothing would ever bring Charlie back.

"You bastard!" Harry screamed, his voice cracking with grief as his vision blurred.

Instantly, the entire pitch was so silent you could hear the wind rustling the blades of grass. Harry was the quiet one. Harry was the respectful one. Harry had never cursed in his life. And yet here he was calling the Headmaster a bastard.

Grief made people do strange things, and Harry was just getting started.

Salty tears were running down his cheeks and into his mouth, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. "You wouldn't tell us— _him_ —anything! You didn't even teach him how to defend himself!" He was wailing now, matching Daphne's cries beside him. She was still hovering over Charlie's figure.

"You know what?" Harry asked, fully aware of the scene he was making and yet not giving a damn. Taking a deep breath, he realized that he couldn't bring himself to forgive his brother's mentor right now. After returning his wand inside his pocket, he looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes. "Maybe we don't need you."

Harry tried to relish the quick feeling of satisfaction that flooded his veins as he watched Dumbledore's eyes widen in understanding and fear. The Headmaster stumbled on his own words finding the right words to say, "Harry, don't be rash. You're going to say something you can't take back."

Harry discovered, in his newfound numbness, he didn't particularly care. He brazenly ignored the aged Headmaster as he turned to scan the crowd for a certain, white-robed figure. Several people averted their gaze in shame, while some tried to hold his gaze in pity. He ignored them all as he scourged their faces.

He shouldn't have wasted his time looking for her. As he returned his gaze on Charlie's body, he instantly saw the Healer, her white robes already caked with blood.

_His brother's blood._

"Madam Pomfrey," he called out quietly once he had his emotions back under control.

She looked at him with such anguish in her eyes that his breathing hitched once more. He took in several steadying breaths before he could speak. "Is there a place we could...keep him for a while? I... I'd like him to be out of everyone's stares."

The Healer absentmindedly nodded as she levitated Charlie's body back into the castle, presumably to the infirmary. "I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered, pausing instead of walking past him. "Your brother…Your brother was a beacon of hope for us all."

Gazing longingly after his brother's silhouette, Harry watched the procession slowly, only tearing his gaze from the desolate vignette once they entered the castle. Then he swivelled back and returned his attention to the crowd, his sadness slowly draining away, leaving a void for his anger to fill.

"And you," he began, barely audible against the mutterings of the crowd. His anger spiked as he registered the fear and hopelessness on their faces. He continued, his volume and courage bolstered by each puff of breath, "All of you! You worshipped him. You treated him like your saviour. How could you?" Tears threatened to pour out of his eyes again, but he willed himself to not cry. These people didn't deserve any more of his tears.

"How could you drop the weight of the world on his shoulders? How could you expect him to fight this war when we've only known we were wizards since we received our Hogwarts letters? He's only fourteen…" Failing, a sob erupted from his mouth. Through his tears, he accused them. "All of you...all of you had a part in his death. You killed him! Not Voldemort," he paused to glare at the crowd as they flinched at the utterance of his name and said in a defeated tone, "My brother is...d-d- _dead_..."

He watched Hermione walk towards him in a slow, agonising manner. She stopped in front of him and grasped his hands with her own shaking ones. She gave him a squeeze and he felt the piece of parchment she had just passed him on. "It was found in his hand."

Giving her hands a squeeze before letting go, Harry opened the paper and quickly regretted it when he felt the bile begin to work its way up his throat. There, in blood-formed letters, were the words that would haunt him for a long time.

_Say farewell to your saviour. Lord Voldemort has risen from the ashes._

He immediately positioned himself to burn the note with a quick wave of his wand, but Hermione stopped him in the nick of time. She grabbed his arm, looking apologetic as she did so, and sent a pointed look at the Minister for Magic standing with the crowd. Sighing as he did so, he gave a sharp nod in response and handed the parchment to the Minister.

"Lies," the Minister muttered under his breath. Harry resisted the urge to shake the feeble man's trembling shoulders. "Lies! It can't be…this is just one of my enemy's ploys! It can't be V-Vol… _Lies_!"

"Cornelius, boys do not die at the hands of cheap tricks! Enough of your blustering!" Dumbledore turns to the crowd and announces, "Voldemort is back."

The effect was instantaneous.

The noise from the crowd intensified as they shouted, cried, and clutched their loved ones against their bosoms as if to keep them safe. Harry looked at the groups of families and closed his eyes, stopping himself from thinking of his own family. He willed himself not to think how...alone he was in this dangerous world.

A figure near him suddenly fell to its knees. It was Fudge, looking at the note in terror in his hands as he muttered something under his breath that Harry didn't care to discern. Fudge looked like he was about to faint. That, more than anything else, worried Harry...until he remembered that the man in front of him placed Hagrid in Azkaban, stationed Dementors in Hogwarts in order to catch their godfather and organized this _bloody_ tournament.

Rolling back his shoulders, he looked across the panicking crowd and realized he didn't care. He didn't feel anything. But they should be terrified. He wanted them to be terrified. He didn't offer assurances, something his brother probably would've given in this situation. He wanted them to feel pain.

"They deserve it," he muttered to himself as turned and stalked off the Quidditch pitch, letting them drown in their own fear.

* * *

Harry heard muffled cries before he even reached the foot of Charlie's bed. He took a step back, not wanting to intrude, but forced himself to proceed since he wanted to spend time with his brother's body.

He needn't have worried; it was only Madam Pomfrey, crying on the seat beside his brother's corpse. Harry tried not to disturb her as he crept at the foot of Charlie's bed, but failed when he accidentally—and quite loudly—stubbed his toe against the metal legs of the bed.

"Harry." The Healer jumped to her feet at his yelp of pain. "I'm sorry." She apologised, scrubbing the tears off her face. "I'll leave you alone with him."

"No," Harry replied. "You…Stay. _Please._ " He grabbed another chair from another cot and sat on the other side. "You were close with him as well. Thank you…for taking care of him."

Harry studiously avoided acknowledging the wet-cheeked Healer and his brother's corpse by observing the headboard, where 'Charles Potter' was engraved on a golden plate. It was a silly gift from the Potter brothers after Madame Pomfrey had jokingly referred to the bed as Charlie's. She'd proclaimed if he was going to visit so often, he may as well have his own bed. It came along with some fancy gloves that she wore for special occasions.

"You've been like a mother to us, Madam Pomfrey," Harry admitted. He debated continuing when he heard an anguished cry from the Healer, but one glance at Charlie's bruised face pushed him on. "Charlie would never admit it, but he was thankful you noticed his scars." Tears fell from his face this time. "We're thankful that you noticed when no one did."

" _Harry._ "

"Thank you for healing him throughout the years. You always did say that he shouldn't come back to the infirmary, and now..." he trailed off. Madam Pomfrey cried harder again. He sighed, feeling frustrated with himself.

"I'm sorry, that was a horrible joke. There's a reason why Charlie is the funny one." He daren't correct himself with his tense. He knew his brother was gone, but it just wasn't fully sinking in.

Madam Pomfrey studied Charlie's face for a while. "I'm proud of him. He was a good person. And I treated you as my sons, Harry, because I thought of you as my sons. I loved both of you as my sons."

* * *

It was nearing curfew, though Harry kept a solemn pace down to the dungeons. No matter how Charlie teased him about the musty, damp atmosphere of the dungeons, he liked it there. It was one of the places he truly felt at home. Harry uttered the password and was met by a blur of blonde hair.

"Harry!"

"Daphne, I was expecting to see you in the infirmary."

"I…We weren't allowed to leave the commons," Daphne bitterly informed him. Harry merely pursed his lips, stopping himself from commenting further. Still, it was better than allowing the whole student body to visit his brother.

"Madam Pomfrey's there with him. He's in his usual bed. He's fine." Charlie was dead. He most definitely was not fine, but then again, reassurances had never been his area of expertise.

"Fine? He's dead, Harry!" Daphne exploded, violently pushing him back by his shoulders. "How can he be fine when he's dead? How can he leave me?" No tears marred her face, only anger evident on her face. Harry felt his energy being sucked by her anger. He didn't want to face this right now, only yearned for the numbing comfort of sleep.

"I'm sorry," he answered weakly. "We're both tired. Let's head to bed."

He tried to move around her, but she only moved to block him again. She kept silent, watching him for a while as she kept him from moving further. He sighed in frustration then threaded his fingers in his hair. "Greengrass."

Daphne suddenly leapt into his arms, and Harry felt her hands clasp around his neck as he stumbled back, keeping an arm around her waist for balance. She tilted her face up as they hit the wall, her eyes screwed shut with determination as she rose up on her toes, slowly eliminating any remaining distance between them.

As much as he liked Daphne...this was wrong. He pushed her away from him as gently—yet sternly—as he could. "What are you doing, Daphne?"

Sapphire eyes whipped open and her jaw dropped in shock as if she'd been slapped. "I'm…I'm sorry. For a minute I thought you were...I'm so sorry," she apologised repeatedly.

"It's okay," he muttered. "We all miss him, and it's going to be a... rough adjustment." He was just so tired. He guided her to the hallway leading to the female dorms. "You should rest." Without a single glance at him, she mindlessly stumbled as she walked into her room.

He glanced at the other end of the hallway, well aware that—despite his exhaustion—sleep was a lost cause. He fingered the invisibility cloak in his pocket and knew where he would be going tonight. He hurriedly slipped on the cloak around his shoulders and marched up to the Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

The Potter brothers didn't prefer to be called twins. The Weasleys and Patils had that honour, and besides, they never felt much like twins. Harry treated Charlie like an older brother, and Charlie treated Harry like a younger one.

Like most older brothers, Charlie was the rock that kept Harry safe.

Whenever Harry burnt the bacon, it was Charlie who took the blame and suffered under Vernon and Petunia's violence. Whenever he was bullied by Dudley, Charlie fearlessly took the bigger boy's punches.

And when Harry was sorted into Slytherin, Charlie stood by him against the sea of accusations from those who would never understand—those who didn't want to understand.

They were completely different. Charlie was sorted into Gryffindor, Harry into Slytherin. Charlie had hazel eyes, while Harry's were green. Charlie was confident and assertive, while Harry was content being a wallflower.

Still, like any other twins, they had their own rituals.

They flew every Sunday morning, a day neither Gryffindor nor Slytherins had Quidditch practice. They'd watch the sunrise, then play a quick pick-up Quidditch game with random fliers. Both brothers wouldn't be seen until later afternoon, right after their usual kip down. They could usually be found in the kitchens, with Charlie charming the pants off every house-elf and Harry asking them about their daily lives (it may or may not have been for Hermione's sake).

Another one of their habits was telling each other their House password.

" _In case of emergency," Charlie reasoned with a pseudo-cheerful tone._

Harry had rolled his eyes at his brother's excuse, but he went along with it in the end. They had been doing it for the past three years. Hoping that the password hadn't changed since the last time Charlie told him about it, he whispered it to the portrait then sighed in relief when the fat lady grudgingly opened for him.

He really had no idea what he was actually doing here, but he was suddenly plagued with the need to sleep in Charlie's bed tonight. It felt like if he were to do so, he would be Charlie for tonight—the powerful brother. Figuring no one would be awake at this hour, he removed his cloak as soon as he neared the staircase.

"Harry?"

He suddenly froze on his steps. He quickly hid the cloak in his pocket and sighed in relief when he was realized it was only Hermione, who was sitting on the floor, leaning on the couch beside the fireplace.

Moving quickly in front of her, he kneeled to meet her eyes. "Hermione? Why are you still awake?"

"I wanted to check up on you, but I didn't want to be caught. I should've gone to the infirmary with you. I should have snuck out. I'm sorry," she rambled.

"Good thing you didn't. Peeves was intent on checking the halls tonight." He smiled weakly at her. He was just so tired.

Hermione must've seen the agony in his eyes because the next thing he knew, she called out his name with such empathy that Harry suddenly found himself breaking down in her arms. She continuously whispered his name and each whisper felt like a caress to his heart that made him feel a little less hurt and lonely at the same time.

" _Harry._ "

He cried harder, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder in an attempt to silence his cries. He was shaking uncontrollably now. She leaned further into the sofa when she couldn't take his weight anymore.

"It's okay, Harry. You don't have to be quiet."

And Harry understood. She had used a Privacy Charm around them. He wanted to thank her, but he couldn't stop the words pouring out of his mouth.

"He left _me_ , Hermione. My brother's dead. He's dead. Dead. Dead. _Dead!_ He promised to never leave me, Hermione! How could he?" He cried harder, gasping for breath along the way. "I wish I were the one who died, Hermione! Charlie would know what to do. I don't know what to do anymore! He's _dead,_ Hermione. Charlie is dead! They've all left me!"

Harry couldn't remember much what happened afterward, only remembering Hermione's warm embrace and calming voice that night.


	2. The Boy-Who-Lived is dead

Sleep used to be an escape for Harry. Until his brother died.

He couldn't remember the entirety of his dreams, only certain situations that were filled with Charlie dying over and over again as Voldemort's laugh rang in his ears. It would soon be replaced by Hermione's calming voice…until he remembered the blood-formed letters and Voldemort's voice took over again.

He grasped the sheets beside him and closed his eyes, trying to sleep again.

_Say farewell to your saviour. Lord Voldemort has risen from the ashes._

He sat bolt upright and rubbed his eyes as he willed to forget the note in his mind. Deciding that he won't sleep anymore, he took a peek out of the maroon-coloured curtains straight to the huge windows. He surmised it was six in the morning and he barely got any sleep as he ended up sleeping in the wee hours of the morning.

Slipping under his cloak, he slid out of the bed and breezed through Gryffindor's Common Room. He arrived at the dungeons without a hitch and went straight to the showers. He relished the peace in the baths and stayed for a while, already dreading the trip to the Great Hall. He was afraid of what the papers would say about his brother's...death.

He mindlessly walked to the infirmary, carefully keeping his eyes on the ground. He didn't want to garner any attention, but one less Potter seemed to have gotten their eyes stuck on him. He sighed in relief as soon as he saw the infirmary's huge imposing doors and bolted right through it.

"Morning, Harry."

Harry turned to look at Madam Pomfrey, who was peeking out from the curtains of Charlie's cot. She seemed to be doing something to his body.

He walked briskly and stood beside her. "Morning, Madam Pomfrey."

"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

Harry pursed his lips, thinking of lying but confessed instead, "No, I haven't. I…don't think I could face them without seeing Charlie first."

Madam Pomfrey nodded in understanding. "I cleaned him up a bit last night. I was able to close his wounds and even re-arrange his bones though his muscles and tissues around it won't heal, of course..." she trailed off. "Are you sure you don't want him to be in Saint Mungo's?"

"No, I…I'd be reassured if he were here. Unless you're not comfortable with him here?"

"Oh no, don't mind me, Harry," she reassured him quickly. "Besides, the ceremony will be happening later."

"Yes, 4 p.m. by the Great Lake," he confirmed. "You'll be there, right?"

"Of course, Harry." She went over and gave him a hug. Releasing him, she patted him on the head and said, "Go have your breakfast, Harry. Charlie wouldn't like it if you lose weight again." She waved her wand over Charlie's body. "I just renewed the stasis charm on his body. I'll get more balms now. When I'm back, I want you out of here, alright?" She gave him a stern look and went to retrieve some jars from her office.

Harry sat down on the nearby chair and pulled it closer to his brother's bed. Charlie looked like he was merely sleeping now that his body lacked bruises and wounds he had garnered yesterday. Harry gingerly held Charlie's hand and closed his eyes. Feeling that it was warm, his heart skipped a beat thinking his brother was still alive, but later realized that it was due to the stasis charm that Madam Pomfrey placed on Charlie's body.

"Lend me your strength, Charlie."

* * *

As he began to approach the Great Hall, the stares and whispers around him intensified. Everyone looked shaken as if today was their last day in this world. He trudged forward and began to move to his usual seat at the Slytherin table when he caught Hermione's stare. Feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, he made a quick decision to head to the Gryffindor table for the first time.

"Hermione," he greeted, immediately giving her a hug and whispered, "Thank you...for last night."

She gave him a squeeze. "You don't have to thank me, Harry."

"I know." He pulled out of the hug. "I'll see you later." She gave him a warm smile and he crossed the hall this time, aware of everyone's gaze at him. Owls arrived in as soon as he sat down. Hedwig zoomed straight into his waiting hand.

"Hey there, girl," he ruffled her feathers a bit. "I'll take those two copies, alright? You don't have to take two copies anymore. It's just us now." Harry didn't know how but it felt like the owl understood it.

"You're really a smart girl, huh? Well, eat up then." He pushed his plate towards her; however Hedwig merely shook her head and hid under her wing. She looked entirely devastated. "Come on, Charlie would be sad if you didn't eat up." To his surprise, Hedwig frantically ate up, digging her talons into the sausages with much gusto.

"Glad that wasn't my hand," Draco commented beside him.

"I wish it were your hair though," he retorted lightly.

"Are you sure you want to read the papers?" Draco asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

Moving to open one of the papers, he suddenly stopped when he heard someone crying at the end of the table. It was Daphne, trying to read the papers as Tracey hovered beside her. She was trying to cover Daphne against the mutterings behind her. Harry grudgingly opened the paper and was immediately greeted by a picture of the note that plagued his dreams. Grimacing, he dutifully ignored it by reading the article.

_Boy Who Lived dead, You-Know-Who is back!_

_Out came one of the celebrated tournaments was the death of Britain's beloved Boy Who Lived, Charlie Henry Potter, who was famous for defeating You-Know-Who in the Halloween of 1981. Not much is known about one of the most devastating deaths we've come to face has happened other than the fact that Mr. Potter's body arrived with a note intact via Portkey._

_The note, assuming written by You-Know-Who himself, was written in Mr. Potter's blood. It remarked about his return as a living being. The Ministry is currently investigating on how said revival has transpired._

_Without the chosen one, how will magical Britain move forward? Is it truly the end of the world?_

Harry sifted through The Prophet and found the rest of it containing the same sentiment: _Charlie was dead, Voldemort was alive, and everyone's going to die_. Harry tried to keep himself from lashing out, but everyone's panicked cries after reading several articles pushed him to do so. He tossed the paper on the table, then stood up from his seat.

He ignored Draco's pleas for him to sit down by casting a _Sonorous_ on himself. "Are all of you scared now?"

After hearing a murmur of affirmations, he nodded to himself. "Good. I'm glad you're all feeling scared right now because that's what Charlie has been feeling ever since we were thrust into this world." A couple of faces from the high table looked at their plates in shame.

"Charlie and I had an…unfortunate childhood and that we were frankly happy just to be out of it. Then we were thrust into your world—Charlie was thrust into your world that you, and your parents—especially the adults, suddenly expected him to go in and save the day just for one thing that he couldn't even remember that he did. Everyone regaled him for the event that cost our parents both of their young lives. Everyone celebrated for a day when both of our parents died just to save us." He skimmed his gaze at across the sea of students.

"And just like yesterday, my brother had lost his life and all of you are only thinking of saving your skins. How many of us should die before stepping up the game? How many families should go extinct before someone wants to defeat Voldemort? I am sick of him destroying my life, I'm sick of him destroying this world! I wanted to enjoy magic and its wonders, I wanted to escape from my previous situation, and I wanted to experience having a family — but he took it all away."

"I'm constantly thinking of days when Voldemort doesn't exist in our lives. And I'm in tears every time I think of it because I yearn for it so much that it brings so much sorrow that I want to live in it. I'm not asking for all of you to risk your lives in this cause… I'm asking for all of you to do _something, anything_ — just like what my brother has done, in order to save this world.

"My brother has fought an aspiring Lord, protected a stone, and fought a basilisk for this world. He isn't here to save us anymore. We have to continue the battle he had continuously trudged on. We shouldn't let one person fight our battles anymore! We have to participate in any way we can to put this disgusting bastard down! What do you say?" He was breathless now, gasping for breath as the adrenaline rush was starting to run off. No one spoke for a few seconds, only looking at him with uncertainty. So when someone moved to stand up, it was heard in the entirety of the Great Hall.

"I'm with you, Harry."

Harry looked at Hermione with such gratitude that tears filled her eyes. Another followed her suit.

Diggory stood, a little wobbly on his foot. He fixed his arm cast while looking Harry intently. "He saved my life countless of times in the maze. In honour of Charlie, I will fight for this cause." Cedric looked expectantly at the students now.

Several people followed now from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables.

" _Bloody Vo-Voldemort!"_

" _I'll ask daddy to publish this for tomorrow's cover."_

" _We will take him down!"_

" _I can ask mother to make this an agenda for tomorrow's Wizengamot session."_

" _Auntie better hear this out."_

Aside from Daphne and Tracey, none from the Slytherin table stood up that Harry felt a little uncomfortable until Draco raised his goblet. From the high table, Professor Snape raised his goblet, then the rest of the Slytherins followed suit—voluntarily or involuntarily, Harry could only guess.

"Slytherins stick to their own," Draco announced, tipping his goblet in his direction.

* * *

Harry checked out his surroundings before slipping inside his cloak. It took him a couple of hours before he could shake off people from his tail. He was late to a meeting with the gang now. He immediately brightened as soon as he saw a familiar tapestry.

"I don't know how Charlie does it. I'm immediately tired from that speech. Why must I be an introvert?" He muttered, walking across the tapestry three times. "Ah drat, I wasn't even thinking of a destination at all! Hermione's meeting room, Hermione's meeting room, Hermione's meeting room." He sighed in relief when the door appeared.

"We thought there was a hooligan right outside the tapestry," Fred joked as soon as he went inside.

"Hey Harry," George sombrely greeted. "Will you mind if we have a surprise for Charlie at the ceremony later?"

Harry pursed his lips as tears suddenly sprang forth in his eyes. "I'm sure he would've loved it. Make sure it'll really stand out, alright? That prat likes that stuff."

"You bet," Fred and George chorused.

Harry gave each of them a one-arm hug before moving past them. They were the guards for today's meeting, in-charge of keeping a lone student out of their meeting place. It was Harry who had thought of it, and it was Charlie who had imposed it on the group.

"Harry, you're okay with pasta for lunch?" Hermione asked as soon as he was near enough to the group.

"Yes, please." Hermione quickly scribbled on her parchment and called Dobby. Harry turned to his right and found Daphne waiting for him.

Daphne wrapped herself with her arms. She looked so small, so different from the girl he had come to fancy. "Harry, I'm sorry about last night. I didn't know what came to me. I…I was a bit shocked. Still am."

"It's okay, Daphne." He gave her a timid smile, keeping a respectable distance from her. "We all are. You are coming tonight, right?"

"Yes," she quickly answered. "My parents will be coming too. Is that alright?"

"Yes, he would've loved that."

"Oi, where's Malfoy? He's talking too long!" Ron complained from a nearby couch.

Harry took a seat at the round table in the middle of the room. Hermione followed him by sitting on his right, dutifully dubbed by Charlie as 'Hermione's seat'.

"Shut up, Ron. It's the first time you're not late today," Hermione admonished as she shifted through her papers. "While it's Draco's first time today."

"I'm here!"

Harry immediately looked behind him to see Draco dragging someone behind him. The twins came right behind them, pocketing their wands as soon as they enacted privacy charms. Ron, Daphne, and Neville—who was carrying some plant—immediately sat down in their usual seats.

"I have a new recruit." Draco stepped behind another blond for him to be fully seen. It was Theodore Nott, Slytherin and son of a Death Eater.

Ron immediately stood up and pointed his wand on the two Slytherins. "I knew you were a traitor, Malfoy!"

"Ron!" Hermione attempted to placate him. Draco pointed his wand at Ron and took a defensive position.

Ron was about to cast a spell when Neville threw his plant in the air. The plant quadrupled its size and wrapped itself in a rope-like fashion around Ron, effectively reducing any arm movement from him. Everyone, including Ron, looked gobsmacked at Neville, who only shrugged and said, "Professor Sprout let me borrow her. She's a new hybrid."

Draco returned his wand inside his pocket and cleared his throat to clear the awkward atmosphere. He brightened immediately when he regained their attention. "Theodore Nott, if you don't know him. We had to wait for his father's response before we could share it with you."

"Share what?" Daphne asked suspiciously.

Draco laugh maniacally, rubbing his hands together. "Oh you'll like it! Come on, Theo. Say it."

Theodore Nott, who still looked shaken from Neville's antics, forced himself to trail his eyes at everyone in the room before settling his gaze on Harry. "Lord Vo-Voldemort…was a Hogwarts student. He's a Slytherin…and a half-blood."

Draco laughed harder, while he and the others merely stared at Theodore, unable to speak.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cussed out loud, finally free of the rope-like plant. Hermione seemed stuck in her own world to berate him.

Seeing no one will attempt to move the conversation, Harry closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, then offered a chair—Charlie's—for Theo. "Come, sit. Let's talk."

Theodore immediately put the two together and immediately retreated, "oh no, I'll just stand. I'd…no…I respect–"

"It's okay," he assured him. "Charlie wouldn't mind." Several heads nodded in agreement. It had happened before, when Draco and Daphne were recruited. He had given up his seat and chose to drag one of the couches for himself instead.

Theodore gave a sharp nod then quietly took the seat across Harry. As soon as the twins and Draco were seated, Harry pushed himself to begin the meeting.

"Please begin from the start, Theodore."

* * *

"Wow," Ron breathed out as he slumped on his seat. Theodore had just finished retelling his father's story about the persona of Tom Marvolo Riddle. It was an eye-opener to a lot of things that drained the whole lot of them.

"That monster was actually…a normal student. Like us." Neville looked out in a daze.

"I surmised as much. I was torn between Durmstrang and Hogwarts," Hermione commented.

Draco barked a laugh. "Definitely _not_ Durmstrang. If it were, my father would not have followed that pretentious man. This is absolutely hilarious. I'd love to witness father's expression when he hears this!"

Fred grimaced at Draco before turning to George. "It's a bit chilling to realize that he's walked the same halls as us…or maybe slept in the same bed." Harry, Draco, and Theodore shivered at the same time. It was absolutely disgusting. He was sure that he'd beg to Dobby to replace his bed tonight.

"Well…you also mentioned something about immortality. At least that's confirmed Sirius' suspicions." Harry turned to Hermione. "You got those papers?"

Theodore blanched. "Sirius? Sirius Black?"

"Erm...he's not really bad you see." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "He was only framed. Peter Pettigrew's the real culprit. Anyway, I'll tell you more next time." He waved a hand dismissively.

The conversation was cut-off by Dobby's sudden arrival with their food. Hermione whispered an additional order of food to Dobby and sneakily dropped two galleons in one of his colourful pockets. Harry and Hermione were distributing the food when Dobby returned with Theodore's plate of pasta.

"Thanks Dobby," everyone thanked the little House-Elf, except for Theodore. He quickly uttered his thanks, even moved to hand Dobby a couple of sickles.

"No, little Nott," Dobby cried. "Dobby doesn't take money! It is Dobby's pleasure to bring everyone food!"

"But she gave–" Theodore trailed off when he saw everyone quickly shaking their heads. "Alright, I'm sorry…Dobby. Thank you"

"You shouldn't thank Dobby!"

"Dobby, what did we tell you?" Harry looked expectantly at the House-Elf this time.

"You-you're welcome," Dobby stuttered. With a bow, he quickly left with a pop.

"That was… um," Theodore began.

"Freaky?" Ron supplied.

"Awful?" Draco said.

"Delightfully different?" Fred asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes, while Daphne groaned, stabbing her fork at her food. "Come on."

"I was going to say unusual," Theodore finally finished.

Harry smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry about Dobby. We're still helping him become…normal? Charlie and Hermione are the ones who are really assertive for him to become accustomed with...err...usual conversational stuff."

"More like unusual," Draco retorted. "He's the most unusual House-elf out there."

"And we're going to change that. Right, Hermione?" Harry turned to Hermione, who looked at him with pride. She smiled then took a glance at her watch.

"We'll talk about House-elf rights next time. I need about a whole day for that." Others exchanged knowing smiles. "As Harry has mentioned, Sirius is innocent and he has been helping us in figuring things out. It was him who discovered this." Hermione replicated a paper and passed half of it to Harry on her left, and passed the other to Neville on her right. Both boys passed the papers to others.

"Are you bloody serious?" Draco asked, forgetting his food as he looked in disbelief at the paper in front of him. "Horcrux?"

Confused, Ron read the definition of Horcruxes to the rest of the group. "' _Horcruxes are_ _receptacles prepared by dark magic in which a Dark wizard has intentionally hidden a fragment of his soul for the purpose of attaining immortality_ ' is that why he's a tad unhinged?"

Fred snorted. "A tad unhinged, little brother?"

"You should mean completely." George corrected.

"Horcruxes…he has more than one?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Harry confirmed quietly.

"Well, Merlin's bloody balls. I'll be damned if I'm old and he's still alive."

"Glad you know something, Draco," Hermione said frostily. "I want to work with you on this."

"Let me work on this," Daphne looked intently at the paper. "I'll work with you or Draco. I don't mind."

Hermione and Harry shared a look before replying, "Are you sure, Daphne? It's a bit..."

"No," Daphne intoned. "Let me—Please, I need to be doing _something_. Let me do this. I want to do this for..." she trailed off.

Hermione pursed her lips before agreeing. "Alright. I guess I should leave you and Draco on this one. Maybe you could help as well, Theodore? No expectations, if you want to back-out, it's fine."

He shook his head, long blond locks covering his face for a second. "No, I'll be glad to help. My father… he's trying his best to fix the mess he's taken part in. I want to be of help as well."

Hermione smiled appreciatively at him before looking down at her notes. "Focus on ways to eliminate them. We've thought that we should eliminate the Horcruxes as fast as we can."

"Apart from using basilisk venom, you mean," Fred clarified, gesturing with the fork in his right hand.

"Yes. We shouldn't rely on it though. It's not easily accessible." She said, looking down at her notes again for guidance. "Tasks left are list of possible Horcruxes, strategising, and actual defence lessons."

"Bloody hell, why only now when we're in Sixth Year?" George complained, settling the fork in his left hand with a clank. This effectively lightened the mood. Some snickered and grinned in response.

"Sorry, mates," Harry apologised. "Not sure if you should be excited since I'm going to handle that. I promised to…Charlie that I'm going to do it."

"Ron and Neville, could you do the strategising?" Hermione asked and both men nodded in return.

"Fred and George, you've been here longer than us. How about you two on the list?" Harry asked. "You can coordinate with Draco, Daphne, and Theo."

"Sure," Fred agreed, while George looked thoughtfully at one corner.

Hermione looked down her list. "And I'll help Harry in DADA lessons, oversee everyone's work, and coordinate communications outside Hogwarts." She turned to Harry this time. "Anything else I missed?"

Harry was taken aback with the sudden shift of gazes on him. Pushing his plate of pasta away from him, he took a deep breath before speaking, "I hope I can see everyone at Dumbledore's office after Charlie's ceremony. We need answers from him—fast. I don't care if we're going to ambush him with this. We need to do this _now_."

"We need an adult to placate him," Neville pointed out quietly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "More like adults. We need an army against him."

Harry sighed in frustration. "Agreed, but we're going to work with him now, not against him. Or better, we will make him work for us."

Everyone turned silent as they pondered on Dumbledore. They couldn't envision the powerful wizard working with a bunch of kids like them—but for Charlie, they will try.

"I want Madam Pomfrey to be there," Harry said quietly.

Ron shrugged. "I was hoping to pitch in McGonagall."

"Professor Sprout," Neville supplied.

"How about we all include Madam Pomfrey and Heads of Houses? More heads are better, right?" Hermione said. All of them nodded their agreement.

"I'll deal with Snape," Draco said.

"I'll help you," Theodore added quietly.

"I'll get Professor Sprout," Neville volunteered.

"Weasleys will deal with McGonagall," George said, looking at Ron and Fred. Both men nodded at him.

"I'll talk to Professor Flitwick," Hermione said, writing all of it down. She looked at Harry, who nodded in reply. She quickly wrote Harry's name beside Madam Pomfrey's.

"The ceremony is open to all students and some parents as well. It won't take long, maybe an hour or so." Harry pursed his lips as he dreaded what was about to come later. "Let's meet in front of Dumbledore's office as soon as he takes me there—and he will, I'm sure of it."

"I guess we're done," Hermione said, waving her wand at her paper and duplicated copies once more. She distributed the copies by herself this time. "We'll see each other later."

Everyone nodded, turning sombre once more as Charlie's burial ceremony loomed before them. The meeting went alright. No one had mentioned how the twins didn't even commit a single prank for the whole hour, how Draco and Ron didn't start a fight (apart from the beginning, which was highly confusing in their defence), and how quiet their meeting was without Charlie's gigantic presence. It seemed lacking that no one pushed them to speak louder, do better, and think harder.

Harry was in desperate need of a shower.

* * *

The burial ceremony was everything Harry expected it to be. The skies were grey, the atmosphere was suffocating, and plenty of tears were shed from the clouds and people alike. There was something that Harry didn't expect though— it was the stifling hollow yet painful feeling threatening to burst out from him.

So, when Harry saw the fireworks lighting up the sky, courtesy of Fred & George, he welcomed it. He laughed and shared a tearful embrace with the twins before Molly could berate them. Harry thought it was fitting, for those lights signified Charlie's presence in his and everyone's lives. The colour red for Charlie's pure heart, colour gold for his talents, and the booming sound for his personality—pounding loud and assertive. Everyone seemed to finally share a smile that time.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore reached out to him right after Charlie's body was buried. "Please meet me in my office… in half an hour. I would like to speak with you."

Refraining from raising an eyebrow at the usage of his first name, he merely nodded at the Professor.

As soon as the Professor was gone, Harry went to kneel in front of Charlie's burial stone.

" _He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war..._

_Here lies the strong and the brave of them all._

_Here lies a young man loved by his family."_

He traced the engraved words on the marble stone and whispered, "We're going to continue your fight, Charlie. We'll finish it for you. I…I miss you already." A sob came out from him. "I hope you're happy with mum and dad out there. _Wait for me."_

Harry felt a hand land on his shoulder. He looked up and saw that it was Madam Pomfrey, her face covered in her tears. "Harry, Ms. Granger mentioned that you wanted to tell me something?"

He hurriedly stood up, wiped his eyes, and covered her hands with his own. "Would you please come accompany me to the Headmaster's Office? There's an important discussion. I would be more comfortable with you there."

The Healer regarded him with kind eyes and said, "Of course, Harry."

As he walked away from Charlie's grave, and onto the Headmaster's office, Harry felt something latch onto him—he didn't know how, or whether it was all happening in his head, but he felt Charlie's strong presence come over him. He knew Charlie was watching. He knew Charlie was there, waiting for Harry to do what Charlie always believed him to do so. Despite all of his inhibitions and flaws, Charlie always believed in him.

And so Harry welcomed Charlie's presence.

He straightened his spine, rolled his shoulders, and looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye. He relished Dumbledore's dumbfounded expression as he not only saw Harry, but several more students, Heads of Houses, and a Healer. Harry tried to picture Charlie's expression and he came up with a proud one.

"Dumbledore. We have some questions for you. Answer those and we'll win the war."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story! It's a bit short but it latched onto me and I couldn't shake it off. I can't image writing more chapters for this, hence the two-shot scenario. If someone's interested to make an actual fic out of this, please do so! Just send me a PM. That's all! I hope all of you are safe and sound xx


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